Going in Circles
by happycabbage75
Summary: Crop circles and revenge, a bad combo for our boys...
1. Chapter 1

**Going in Circles**

Disclaimer: Yeah… Not affiliated with the show. That's life, that's war, that's potatoes.

Summary: Crop circles and revenge, a bad combo for our boys…

I was told my last story was too complicated (and if _that_ doesn't give a person writer's block…), so this puppy is going to be as straightforward as I can manage.

Chapter One

* * *

"You know why I like Indiana so much?" Dean asked.

Sam only raised an eyebrow in response.

"It's the scenery. It's always changing. Sometimes the corn's on the left. Sometimes it's on the right."

"Don't forget the soybeans."

"Soybeans. Right," Dean nodded. "Can't forget those. Fascinating things, soybeans."

Sam smiled as he watched his brother sitting in the driver's seat, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Dean was clearly bored out of his mind. Not even the usual music seemed to be helping as the road stretched off into the distance, the mind-numbing, barely changing distance.

"You want me to drive for a while? You could take a nap," Sam offered.

"Do I look 80 to you?" Dean cast him a sidelong glance. "I need naps now?"

"I just…"

"You sleep… what? Two nights a week all the way through? I stay up late watching TV _one_ night…"

Sam held up his hands in the traditional whoa-there gesture. "Just offering. Thought you could use a break. You're the one making observations on mid-American farming technique."

"I'm about to make some observations about fertilizer if you don't back off," Dean said straightly.

"Man, you were watching old Star Trek reruns!" Sam eyed him. 3 a.m. and Dean had still been staring at the TV, quietly commenting to himself on Kirk's poor fighting skills. At one point Sam had actually heard him mutter, 'Set it on Stun, my ass!'

"Couldn't sleep," Dean grunted.

"Not surprised," Sam said, turning to look out the window at the passing corn fields. "Up all hours of the night… body here… grave there…"

Dean sniffed, but didn't reply. Sam knew what the real problem was. His brother was a goal-oriented person. Give him some place to be and a good reason to be there and he'd drive until he was ready to keel over. They were on their way to Illinois to check out a possible haunting, but it was weak at best, only the barest suspicion raised by a newspaper article. It was something to do until they found better, but Dean's heart just wasn't in it.

Sam felt his brother take his foot off the gas and looked up. "What do you think?" Dean pointed out the windshield.

A pair of cars were parked beside the road and two men stood beside them, gesturing toward the field.

"An accident, maybe?" Sam suggested. "Better stop. See if they need help."

"Sam the good Samaritan," Dean frowned, though he slowed the car and pulled it to the side, parking behind the others.

They both got out and started walking toward the men who were still talking obliviously and pointing into the field. Sam saw Dean shift just slightly as he walked and knew he was ensuring that the gun he had at his back was both hidden beneath his shirt and was well placed should he decide he needed it. When meeting new people, some guys checked their hair, some checked their clothes. Dean checked his gun. As always it was comforting to Sam and yet an unsettling reminder of how they lived their lives.

"What's going on?" Dean asked as they approached. Both men turned and eyed him in annoyance.

"Who wants to know?" the closest to them asked. He looked to be a farmer type in his 50s, jeans, well-worn work shirt and a ball cap with a seed company logo on it. The other man looked to be a younger version, probably a son, Sam thought.

"Hey there, pal," Dean raised his hands defensively. "We just stopped to make sure everybody was ok. You're ok, we'll get right back in the car and go."

"Sorry, mister," the man said, somewhat chagrinned. "It's just that those kids have been in our field again messing around."

"Oh?" Dean said, barely hiding how little he was interested.

"Been making crop circles. It's the third one this week."

Now instead of being barely interested, a ghost of a grin appeared on Dean's face though he quickly smothered it. Sam doubted the farmer had even noticed. He looked at his brother more closely and could see that something in the idea of crop circles appealed to him. He could see it in his stance. Artistic destruction of property. Vandalism with a purpose. It was just Dean's style, he realized. That and it was probably a throwback to his teen years when Dean had badly wanted to key some teacher's car, but knew their dad would kill him if he found out.

Still, crop circles were an annoyance. Normal people faking supernatural things only made what they did harder. It was bad enough trying to get people to believe them about the real things out there. Things like crop circles were so easy to disprove, it just made people more skeptical.

"They catch the kids?" Dean asked.

"No," the farmer answered, some of his belligerence returning. "And now that jackass is back out there wandering in my field trying to prove the existence of aliens."

"Who?"

"This guy thinks he's going to find little green men in my cornfield," the man said, taking off his hat and scratching through his thinning hair. "Calls himself a ufologist."

"A _what_?" The word sounded like you-fall-ogist. Sam couldn't help it. He had to laugh.

"A ufologist… Studies UFOs and whatnot. Just a jackass if you ask me," the man shook his head and pulled his hat back on. "He's out there running around with his silly equipment taking measurements. I'm just waiting for one of the Sheriff's deputies to get here and arrest him for trespassing. I warned him last time that I didn't want him on my land. More publicity is all I need. The other idiots will come out of the woodwork and trample every bit of my corn."

They heard a noise from the field, a shout of half-alarm, half-surprise. Neither of the men standing beside their cars looked inclined to investigate.

"Shouldn't we go check on him?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "He probably tripped over his own feet."

"Still… You mind?" Sam asked, looking back at the farmer.

"Feel free. He's about thirty yards into the field," the man replied, pointing. "But there's no need. The deputy will be more than happy to drag him out in a few minutes."

Sam and Dean headed into the field, brushing the tall corn aside as they walked. It was late in the season and the corn was dry, about ready for harvest.

"Have I mentioned how much I like the scenery here?" Dean asked.

"Hey, crop circles in soybeans are no fun," Sam replied. "Too short."

"That better not have been a height remark."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine. The soybeans are vertically challenged."

"Hey, Sam?" Dean stopped momentarily to grin almost sweetly at him. "Remind me to kick the crap out of you later, will ya?"

After several more seconds they saw a break in the corn and stopped at the very edge of a perfectly round circle maybe 15 feet in diameter. A man in jeans and a t-shirt was walking around the edge of the circle opposite them. His back was to them, but they could hear a noise that was clearly mechanical as he bent over moving around the circle.

"Kids these days," Dean grunted, "Can't find anything better to do on a Friday night than wander around crop circles. Here's an idea… Find a girl."

Dean cleared his throat loudly and the man whirled around, dropping the black box he was holding. He bent over and scooped it up as if it were precious. All the while it continued its clicking noises. He was about their age, average height and weight and he looked a lot like they did, as if he lived out of a suitcase. He looked up at them and there was the unmistakable gleam of obsession in his eyes.

"What's that you got there, Scooter?" Dean asked.

The man frowned slightly, but the gleam in his eyes did not diminish. He looked like a miner who had just struck gold. "It's an EMF meter."

Sam glanced at Dean who had suddenly gone very still. "Come again?" he asked.

"EMF. All living things have a small electro-magnetic field. The levels are often slightly higher in crop circles," the man said, looking around himself at the corn that had been carefully and completely flattened in a circular swirling pattern. "But this…" He trailed off and then gestured conspiratorially for them to come closer.

They both moved forward across the empty space to stand on either side of him. "Look at this," he whispered almost reverently. "Look at these readings… They're off the charts. I've never seen anything like it."

Dean and Sam's eyes met over the man's bent head. He was right. The EMF was going crazy.

"All right, buddy."

They all looked up to see two uniformed deputies walk into the clearing. Sam and Dean instinctively backed away as the two bore down on them. The deputies paid no attention to them, however, heading straight for the ufologist who also began to back up as his predicament became clear to him.

"You were warned not to come back on this property, Mr. Baker," one of the cops said calmly. "We told you that you would be arrested for trespassing."

"You don't understand," the man said almost frantically. "This is too important! It's unbelievable! The readings… This field could prove everything!"

"Right, Mr. Baker. Aliens, EMF… We heard it all last time. Now put your hands behind your back."

The policeman's partner had already moved closer and caught one of the man's arms. Before he knew what was happening, he'd been cuffed and was being hauled unceremoniously out of the field, his EMF meter left behind where he'd dropped it when the cops grabbed him.

"One of you guys pick that up and bring it with you," the deputy ordered. "You don't need to be here either."

"Yes, sir," Sam said, grabbing up the small black box. He and Dean hesitated for several seconds, however, until the deputies had disappeared with the UFO specialist.

Together they walked back toward the road. As soon as they passed the boundary of the circle the whirring clicks of the EMF meter fell silent. Sam backed up again into the circle and the EMF started clicking angrily. He stepped forward out of the circle and it stopped again.

"What do you think?" Dean asked quietly. "You ever heard of a ghost making crop circles like this?"

Sam shook his head. "I think we might need to make a trip to the library."

"You know," Dean muttered, "I somehow think aliens might have been less trouble."

* * *

_The setup… More tomorrow._


	2. Chapter 2

**Going in Circles**

Summary: Crop circles and revenge, a bad combo for our boys…

_Thank you for the lovely reviews and the pep talk. Just what I needed._

Chapter Two

* * *

"So you find anything?" Dean asked as Sam got back into the car.

"Nothing," Sam answered wearily. "I looked through everything I could think of."

It was almost dark. While Dean had spent the afternoon carefully asking questions of the locals, Sam had spent the afternoon in the local library. It had not been easy going. The owner's house was the only one nearby and he'd found nothing out of the ordinary about it or the family. Nor had he been able to find anything specific about the area or the road other than a few accidents.

"Nothing at all?" Dean asked, tiredly rubbing a hand over his face.

"I even asked the librarians if they knew anything," Sam said in frustration. "They had all heard about the crop circles, but as for anything else going on, not even a hint of anything odd."

"Indiana isn't exactly crop circle central."

"Or an alien hot-zone," Sam shook his head.

"That doesn't explain the EMF," Dean frowned. "Something happened in that field."

"Except there's nothing in the papers," Sam sighed. "At least that I could find. It's not like you can look up 'middle of nowhere' very easily."

"The guy who owns the land is named Winters," Dean said. "He owns a huge tract of land, farms it with his son. They both have houses on the edge of the property. The son lives just down the road from the circle where we were. They're well thought of. Hard working guys. Honest. When I mentioned insurance fraud for the corn, a guy in the diner nearly took a swing at me for even suggesting there was any funny business."

"Maybe we should go talk the owner," Sam suggested. "He would know if something had happened on his land better than anyone."

"Or maybe… we should see what _he's_ up to. Check it out," Dean pointed. "Looks like Mr. UFO made bail."

They both watched as the man they'd met in the field got into a tiny foreign car a block ahead of them. "Let's see where our favorite Martian is going." Dean slowed to a crawl so that the man would pull out in front of them. "Winters said this was the third crop circle this week. What you wanna bet this guy knows exactly where the others are?"

"We're just going to follow him?"

Dean shrugged. "You got a better idea? He might watch too much X-Files, but he knows more than we do right now. A guy at the post office said he's been in town since the first crop circle showed up. Flew in only a few hours after the news got around."

"Where do you think he gets the money to wander around investigating crop circles?" Sam wondered out loud.

"Probably gets signals through the chip the aliens implanted. Tells him how to play the stock market," Dean offered derisively.

"Yeah, cause credit card scams are so much more normal," Sam raised an eyebrow.

"It's not like we're salaried," Dean said, almost defensively. "I like to think of it as public funding for services rendered to the community." He frowned, keeping his eyes on the car in front of them as it headed out of town, back into the country. "And I resent being compared to Mr. I-wear-a-tin-foil-beanie-to-keep-the-alien-rays-away."

"Just cut the guy some slack," Sam said. "He believes in some weird stuff just like we do. Wouldn't kill you to be civil to him."

"Yeah, it might," Dean shot back. "Ghosts regularly kick the crap out of us and I'm guessing he's never seen more than the Roswell museum and that crop circle." He rolled his eyes and waved his hand in the direction of the car in front of them. "Which is apparently where he's going right back to."

"He must like that jail," Sam observed. "He's gonna get himself arrested again."

"Maybe it reminds him of his abduction," Dean replied, a wry twist to his lips. "He misses the mother ship."

He pulled to the side of the road behind the man's car that appeared packed to the gills with all sorts of equipment. As soon as the car was stopped, the man got out, grabbed a backpack and started to head into the field. Sam and Dean hurried to follow.

"Hold up there, Scooter!" Dean shouted.

"This could be the most important scientific discovery in years!" the man shot over his shoulder, still heading further into the field. "If you're not going to help, then leave me alone!"

"Oh we're here to help," Dean said, trying for sincerity, but only managing it half-way. Sam fought not to smile. Dean and sincerity didn't always mix well.

"Really?" the man said, slowing his hurried walk.

"Oh, yeah," Dean nodded. "We're fascinated by this stuff. Aliens, crop circles, EMF."

"And the nodes!"

Dean blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"The nodes on the corn stalks!"

"Nodes. Right," Dean nodded. "The nodes are…"

"The damage! But they're not damaged like they would be if humans had bent the corn over!" the man said excitedly. "They're…"

"Exactly," Dean said, looking almost panicked that the man was going to explain further. Sam knew neither of them was going to be able to keep a straight face if he kept it up.

"We haven't been introduced. I'm Tom Baker."

Sam gave him a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you, Tom. I'm Sam. This is Dean."

"Well… as fascinating as your _nodes_ are… You want to tell us about the other crop circles?" Dean asked.

The man's eyes fairly blazed with excitement. "This one is exactly the same as the other two. They are the same size down to the inch. The same pattern in the corn, the same EMF levels, though the readings have faded in the other two. But they're practically identical! I've been trying to get these people to understand the importance of what is happening here."

"Where are the other two?" Sam asked.

"Within a few hundred feet of here." His eyes widened again in fervent obsession. "I suspect there are more, but I can't tell because the land is so flat and I haven't been able to arrange for a plane to fly me over the field yet."

"You think there are more?"

"Just from something Mr. Winters said… But all he cares about is his corn! As if his crops mean anything in the grand scheme of things!" That seemed to decide something in the man's mind and he quickly turned and headed further into the field straight for the circle. "They could be trying to contact us right now and all he cares about is feeding his cows!" he said angrily, trudging into the corn.

Sam and Dean shared a disconcerted look and then simultaneously shrugged and followed him.

"Dean, it's past dark," Sam warned. "We don't have any idea what's out here."

"I know," his brother replied quietly. "But we can't just let Mulder stay out here alone. He has even less of an idea what he's dealing with than we do."

"You got a flashlight?"

Dean nodded and patted his jacket pocket. "You armed?"

Sam grimaced and had to fight not to blush. "I've got some leftover salt packets from where we stopped for lunch. Does that count?"

Dean snorted. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"What do you want me to do?" Sam asked testily, in truth embarrassed that Dean had caught him unprepared. It was like your teacher calling on you when you hadn't done your homework. "We can't exactly break out the shotguns. The guy would faint."

"Sam, the guy would faint if you told him you liked Picard better than Kirk." Dean paused momentarily. "On second thought, why don't you do that. We'll stash him in his car and then we can take care of business."

They stepped out into the crop circle to see that their new friend had already opened his backpack and retrieved his EMF meter, which was whirring and clicking audibly.

"The readings are even higher!" he said breathlessly.

"That's not a good thing," Sam heard Dean mutter under his breath.

Almost immediately Sam felt the faintest prickling at the back of his neck. In a matter of seconds, he was practically bristling like a startled cat.

"What is that?" Dean hissed, turning in a circle, looking all around.

The feeling intensified until it was almost a weight, pressing at them from all sides. Sam felt it like a rock pressing on his chest, on his whole body. The pressure grew, bearing down on his shoulders, nearly forcing him to his knees.

"We've got to get out of here," Dean whispered. Sam turned his head, an effort in and of itself, to look at his brother and knew that he too was feeling the strain. Black dots began to swim in front of his eyes and Sam faintly realized he wasn't breathing. But it was a distant realization and one that he could do nothing about. The pressure against his body was simply so great that he couldn't make his chest expand to allow his lungs to fill. His ears were ringing, his blood pounding audibly. He was going to suffocate in a wide open field.

Through a haze he saw Tom fall to the ground several feet in front of him. Only a few seconds later, the ground came up to meet him, the invisible force still pressing down on him until darkness clouded what remained of his vision. He heard Dean fall to the ground with a grunt as consciousness fled and he closed his already darkened eyes.

* * *

_Barring disaster, more tomorrow…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Going in Circles**

_Thanks for all the reviews. I think the messaging system might be on the blink again though, so I'll say here that a gold star goes to those who recognized Tom Baker's name. He _was_ the Doctor!_

Chapter Three

* * *

Dean woke suddenly, his vision clearing. He sat up hurriedly and fumbled in his pocket for the flashlight he'd put there earlier. The small beam of light fell on Sam who was lying unmoving several feet from him.

"Sam?"

It only took a second for Dean to realize that when he'd fallen, he had fallen outside the crop circle. The weight he'd felt pressing down on him must have stopped when he left it and he'd started breathing again. Sam, however, hadn't been so lucky. Every word, every promise to keep him safe roared to life in Dean's ears, accompanied by the gut-wrenching fear of not knowing how long he'd been passed out himself.

Struggling to his knees, Dean crawled forward toward his brother. As soon as he was within the circle, the pressure immediately returned and he felt the air being crushed out of his chest. He grabbed one of Sam's out-flung arms and desperately pulled, dragging him toward the circle's edge.

Just as Dean was sure that his lungs would burst, he pulled Sam across the threshold. Sam gasped like a swimmer coming up for air. Dean thought it was one of the sweetest sounds he'd ever heard as he collapsed to the ground beside his brother, his lungs burning.

"Sam, you ok?" Dean gasped out. When there wasn't a response, he struggled to his knees once again. "Sammy?" he demanded, smacking him lightly.

"Don't hit me," Sam mumbled, still not opening his eyes. "Trying to breathe."

Dean sat back on his heels, his head bowed in a silent prayer until a second later when another thought struck him. The UFO guy. Dean whirled, shining his flashlight around the circle until the beam of light fell on the man's deathly still form.

"Sam, we gotta get him out of the circle. He's not breathing," Dean said, urgently pushing himself up off the ground.

Sam too lurched to his feet and together they hurried around the outside perimeter of the circle until they were at the point closest to where the man was lying. He had fallen with his feet facing out, his head nearly in the middle of the circle.

"We're going to have to be fast or we'll all be done for. The pressure, or whatever it is, it's getting worse," Dean said, remembering the few seconds it had taken to pull Sam to safety. "We'll have to do it together. You ready?"

Sam nodded, though Dean worriedly noted that he still seemed a bit unsteady on his feet. They both took a deep breath and plunged into the circle, the weight of the unseen force nearly bringing them to their knees. Feeling like they were moving in slow motion, they desperately grabbed Tom by his ankles and pulled him back toward the edge.

Whatever was inside the circle apparently didn't care to lose its final victim. The pressure increased, bearing down on them until Sam's knees buckled. Dean continued to struggle the last few inches, knowing he would not be able to breathe until he got there. And if he couldn't breathe, he couldn't help Sam.

The second he broke through the invisible barrier, the pressure was gone and his lungs were free to inflate again, but he didn't dare pause to enjoy the sensation. Feeling light-headed, he dropped Tom's foot and spun to hold out a hand to Sam.

Sam was bent over on all fours, blinking, his eyes beginning to glaze.

"Sam!" Dean barked, trying to get his attention. He half-stepped inside the circle again, the almost unbearable weight crushing in its intensity. Sam must have heard him, struggling to hold out his hand. Dean grasped it, then using all his weight, he jerked him forward and out of the circle. At some point his brother had apparently gained a hundred pounds and Dean grunted, feeling almost like he'd pulled his shoulder out of its socket. Releasing Sam, he stumbled back outside the circle himself. His chest heaving from exertion, Dean picked up Tom's foot again and dragged him the rest of the way out.

Dean could hear Sam's gasping breaths above the sound of his own, but their newest companion didn't start breathing again.

Dean knelt beside him and smacked him, hard, across the face. "Tom, you gotta breathe for me, buddy. There's a Star Trek convention with your name on it somewhere." He smacked him again. "Come on, man. It just won't be the same without their favorite Klingon." Dean leaned over him and rubbed his knuckles hard into the man's sternum.

Tom came to with a gasp, dragging in great gulps of air. He took one look at Dean and then promptly passed out again.

"I'm going to try not to take that personally," Dean frowned and sat back heavily. At least the guy was still breathing.

"So I think it's safe to say that it's a malevolent spirit," Sam said. He sat up, holding his hand to his chest as if his ribs were sore. Dean's own were bruised, feeling like he'd been squeezed in a vise.

"Two points to Mr. Obvious," Dean rolled his eyes. "Question is why?"

"More pressing question is what are we going to do with this guy?" Sam nodded toward the unconscious ufologist. "There's no way we'll be able to keep him away from here."

"I've got an idea," Dean said and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He pushed a few buttons and then sat back, grinning. "Hello? Yes, I'd like to report that the man you arrested earlier for trespassing is back in my field. Yes, in the same place. His car is parked by the road and I've found him here just inside the field. He's passed out though. I think maybe he's drunk or something." He paused for several seconds, listening. "Yes, thank you," he finally said and then closed his phone.

"Dean, that was…"

"Brilliant?"

"I was going to say cruel."

"Hey, we need him out of the way. They'll see if he needs any medical attention too. Everybody wins." Dean got to his feet again. The guy was not his concern. Stopping anyone else from stumbling into the circle was. "Now help me haul Mr. Sci-Fi up to the road. We don't want any cops wandering out here."

Between the two of them, they dragged the man back around the circle and up toward the road. As they reached the edge of the field, they dropped their load and Dean realized that there was another car parked behind theirs.

"That was fast. Looks like the cavalry's already here."

Sam frowned. "I'm not sure that's…"

"Don't move!"

Dean heard the very unmistakable sound of a shotgun being racked. That particular sound was on his personal top ten list of things he didn't like to hear when it wasn't him making it. Sam stilled beside him and neither of them moved a muscle.

"What are you doing out here?" the man said angrily. "We told you people to stay out of our field!"

"We just came out here to try and talk our friend into leaving," Sam said, still remaining perfectly still. "We didn't want him to get arrested again."

"What's wrong with him?" the man with the shotgun demanded, sounding less than placated.

"He fell, got the wind knocked out of him," Dean said, which was sort of true he supposed. "We were just carrying him to the car so we could leave."

"What were you doing out here?" the man repeated, and this time Dean caught just the tiniest hint of worry in his voice. Interesting.

"Can we turn around?" he asked. "We're not going to cause any trouble." Sam wasn't armed and unless the situation went sour, well… sourer, he really didn't want to antagonize the guy. They were going to have to get back into the field sometime and causing trouble now would only make it harder later.

"Fine. Turn around. Slow."

In the dim light of his flashlight, Sam and Dean both turned around to see a man aiming a 12 gauge in their direction.

"We haven't been properly introduced," Dean said calmly. "I'm Dean, this is Sam. The guy on the ground is Tom."

"And you are?" Sam prompted when the man remained silent.

"Simon Winters," he grunted and Dean remembered seeing him earlier with his father. He looked to be in his early 30s, maybe a little more uptown than his father. Probably wore Dockers on weekends instead of jeans.

"What were you doing out here?" the man asked yet again.

"What do you think we were doing?" Dean cocked his head to one side. Something was suddenly setting of all his alarm bells. He changed position slightly, reassuring himself with the feel of the gun tucked at his back.

"Your friend asked us for core samples and we told him no. If you were digging…"

Sam and Dean shared a look. Sam's brow was furrowed, and he shifted uneasily. "No… No digging…" Although Dean now had a pretty good idea of what they _should_ be doing come sunrise. He also mentally reminded himself to have a talk with Sam about all his frowning. His face was going to stick like that.

They all turned hearing a car pull up and this time, Dean could see the light bar on top of a police cruiser. Simon immediately let his shotgun drop as the officer turned slightly so that the car's headlights shone into the field illuminating their small group. Simon waved to the officer, who quickly stepped from the car and strode toward them.

"Winters?" the deputy said as he approached. "You having trouble with these people again?"

"No," Simon answered quickly. "Though it was good of you to come out, Jake. We were just trying to get this fellow to his car and his friends here were going to drive him back to his hotel." The look on his face dared Sam and Dean to argue. For some reason, Winters wanted the cop gone. That was not a reassuring thought.

"What's wrong with him?" the deputy frowned. He looked to be about the same age as the farmer.

"He'll be fine," Dean said, "just need to get him back to his room so he can sleep it off." And get him away from the guy with the shotgun, Dean silently added.

The deputy nodded, looking down at the man still on the ground. He didn't seem overly concerned and Dean knew that a passed out drunk was nothing new to him. "This the guy checking out the crop circles?" he asked.

"Yes," Simon answered tightly, though the deputy didn't seem to hear the warning in the man's voice.

"Haven't been out here to see them myself," the deputy said, stepping farther into the field. "Kinda weird this circle popping up where the old silo was, isn't it?"

"Weird," Simon said, and this time the officer did hear the change in the man's tone.

"You ok?"

"Just fine, Jake," he answered, though he appeared tense as a bow string. Dean saw him tighten his grip on the shotgun.

"I'm sorry, Winters," the deputy said suddenly. "This is where you had your accident isn't it? I forgot that's why your dad took that silo down."

"It's ok," Simon said, though his expression was almost panicked now. "That was a long time ago."

"When was that? We must've been… seniors that year?"

Simon nodded mutely.

"Right," the officer said, as if suddenly remembering. "That was the summer that Joe disappeared."

Several things happened simultaneously. Simon grabbed his shotgun like a club and bashed the unsuspecting deputy in the back of the head. Dean drew his gun from the waistband of his jeans and leveled it at Simon. Finally, the headlights on the police car flickered several times and then died.

Dean clicked his flashlight back on and aimed it at Simon along with the gun. "Don't move."

A sound to his left drew his attention, but he didn't look away from Simon who was staring down at the unconscious deputy. "What is it, Sam?"

"Tom's awake," he answered, but Dean could tell something was wrong. He heard the man get to his feet.

"Tom?" Dean dared a quick glance, but once he took one look at him he couldn't look away.

Tom was staring at Simon, his face a mask of hatred and sorrow. His eyes were glowing. That was _never_ a good sign.

Tom took a step toward Simon who began backing away. "Finally, come back to see your old friend, have you, Si?"

* * *

_Typing madly… Hope to have more up tomorrow._


	4. Chapter 4

**Going in Circles**

_Thank you for the kind reviews. One explanation for the crop circles, coming up._

Chapter Four

* * *

Tom took another step toward Winters who raised his shotgun to fire.

"Whoa, whoa there," Dean said. "I don't want to have to shoot you, Simon, but I can't let you hurt Tom. He's not himself at the moment."

"No one calls me, Si," the man said, the whites of his eyes showing like a panicked horse. "_Nobody_."

"How soon we forget," Tom said, still moving forward, oblivious to the shotgun pointed at his chest. "I've called you Si since we were little boys. Since we were in Mrs. Patterson's class. Remember? You hit me for stealing your crayons?"

"N-no," Simon said, looking like he was going to faint. "It's not possible."

"Tom?" Sam said tentatively, despite the fact that he was fairly certain the night had just gotten a lot more complicated.

"I don't think Tom's home right now," Dean replied, still not taking his eyes off of Winters.

"J-Joe?" Simon asked, the shotgun starting to drop.

"I'm honored that you remember me, Si. Then again, it's not everyday you kill someone, is it?" Tom continued walking, very slowly, one studied step in front of the other. As he walked Sam felt movement around him. He looked and saw that the corn was silently toppling, falling in a circle all around them, as if a fierce wind were pushing it over until it lay flat on the ground. As Tom moved forward the circle moved with him, stretching out around them. Dean was still watching Simon and the shotgun, but Sam saw him shift uneasily and knew that he was seeing it too.

"Simon, if you've got something to say to Joe, I think now would be a good time," Dean suggested.

"Joe… It was an accident."

"You _accidentally_ locked me in the silo?" The ghost's voice was a low growl, nothing like Tom's.

"Joe, that silo was empty… It was _empty_!" Simon said frantically.

"How long did you think I could last, locked in a metal coffin? It was a hundred degrees in the shade that day!"

Sam looked from one man to the other, not really sure what those two things had to do with the other.

"I… I just wanted you out of the way for a little while… _I didn't know_!"

"Maggie was _my_ girlfriend. Mine!" Tom shouted. "I _loved_ her! We were friends, Si," he added sorrowfully. "More than friends. We were like brothers. How _could_ you?"

Sam looked across at Dean who appeared to be just as confused as he was. "Anyone else feel like they just stepped into an episode of Smallville?" Sam heard him mutter.

Tears began to fall down Simon's cheeks and the shotgun fell from his hands. He slumped to the ground as if his legs could no longer support him. "I'm sorry… so sorry… I just wanted to spend the day with Maggie. She… she was so wonderful. It was going to be the three of us… I just thought if I could keep you busy, it would be just me and Maggie… Just the two of us… I thought maybe I'd have a chance."

"You locked me in that silo," Joe said angrily. "I knew what you were up to. I saw the way you were acting around Maggie. I paced and paced, walking my feet off, walking in circles around that silo. It was so hot… so hot…" Joe's voice trailed away, lost somewhere in the past.

"Joe, I didn't know," Simon said, his voice breaking on a sob. "I'm sorry… I didn't know."

"You forgot it was harvest time," Joe said distantly. "It was so hot… I couldn't move… Didn't have any energy left… I heard the truck pulling up outside… I remember thinking how heavy the corn was… How could dried up corn be so heavy? I couldn't breathe… I tried and all I did was suck in corn and dust… I tried to cough… but it was so heavy… crushing me… crushing my chest… You forgot it was harvest time, Si."

Simon was leaning forward his forehead almost touching the ground, sobs wracking his body. "I didn't know… I didn't know," was all he kept repeating.

"We were like brothers," Joe said again, his voice a low, furious hiss.

Sam frowned, his throat tightening in sympathy, almost pity. Dean had wordlessly forgiven him time and again, simply moving on when he thoughtlessly or sometimes intentionally hurt him. He knew Dean remembered the harsh words, the times he had failed him as a brother, but despite that Dean would hold on to him for all he was worth, would sacrifice himself to save him, would die for him. Looking at Joe and Simon, Sam thought that there were brothers and then there were _brothers_. Those years when he had refused to pick up the phone when Dean called… No matter what else, no matter how much Dean might infuriate him at times, he vowed to never let that happen again.

"Joe, I never meant it to be that way," Simon pleaded.

"But you didn't tell anyone, did you, Si?" Joe spat, all traces of that distant voice gone. Simon blindly shook his head. "You didn't tell anyone that you _killed_ me. Not my family and not _Maggie_."

"What did you do, Simon?" Dean demanded. "What did you do with the body?"

"Tell him," Joe said furiously. "It's time you told someone what you did."

"Joe, please!"

"TELL HIM!" he roared.

"The deputy said you had an accident here," Sam prompted.

While they were talking, he had slowly been making his way around Tom to stand next to Dean. He wasn't armed and Dean didn't need the added worry of trying to protect someone standing opposite him. Barely nodding his approval, Dean moved slightly to screen him from whatever the ghost was up to. Of course, Sam thought, it didn't really block him since he was so tall. He tried not to smile as he imagined informing Dean of that fact.

"When I got back… I saw what had happened and I… I panicked. I used the car… I rammed the silo and… and found the … the body… I knew Maggie would never forgive me. I just buried him in the field. I never told anyone."

Sam and Dean were both stunned into silence. Dean could see the pain and sorrow on Joe's borrowed face. He could see the betrayal and anger.

"That was how much I meant to you?" Joe said furiously. "We were best friends, Si! You spent more time at my house than you did yours! My mother fed you, cleaned you up when we got hurt, sat on the porch and laughed at us while we played two-man baseball. Si, my mother _loved_ you! And you never told her! Never let her know what had happened to me!"

"I'm sorry, Joe," was all Simon could say. "I can't tell you how much I wish I could take that day back."

"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Beg all you like, Si. It's too late now." Joe began to move forward again, towering over Simon who was still sitting on the ground, not even daring to look up. "You never did anything to make it right."

Joe reached out his hand to touch him and Sam saw Dean tense, raising his gun to point at Tom this time.

"Don't touch him," he ordered. Sam saw him shift his aim slightly. Dean didn't have any rock salt, but he could wing Tom. It might be enough to wake him up.

Joe turned, his glowing eyes fastening on Dean. "Why not?"

"Because I can't let you kill him," he said simply.

"Why not? He deserves it," Joe said just as simply. He looked from Dean to Sam as if just now realizing they were there. He withdrew his outstretched hand and took a step toward them. Sam and Dean both took an involuntary step back. "I see you now," his eyes widened. "I see why you both shine so brightly."

"We shine?" Dean said incredulously. He spared Sam a quick glance, one side of his mouth quirking upward. "Sam, remind me not to bother buying anymore batteries for the flashlight."

"Dean…" Sam said in warning.

"You are avenging angels," Joe said. "You were sent here to help me."

"Hold on there, buddy," Dean said, looking stunned. "I'm pretty sure every preacher in town just sat up and said, 'heck, no.'"

"I can _see_ what you are." Joe frowned in confusion. "Why won't you punish him?"

Dean was still looking stymied. "It was an accident," Sam answered gently. "We will make sure that your body is found."

Joe straightened, all his tension and rage returning. "Not good enough." The ghost turned back to Simon, his eyes glowing angrily. "If you will not do anything, then I will have to."

"I said don't touch him, Joe. I wasn't kidding," Dean's voice was calm and even. It was a standing family rule. Try not to yell at the ghosts. It made them cranky. Sam was just surprised that Dean was sticking to it. That was normally rule number one to go.

"Simon?"

Every man in the field, with the exception of the still unconscious deputy looked up at the sound of the female voice.

"Simon, is everything all right?" The woman stepped into the flattened circle of corn, holding a large flashlight. She was a tiny woman, just over five feet tall and dressed simply in jeans and a knit shirt.

"Maggie, go back to the house!" Simon ordered frantically.

"Maggie?" Sam and Dean whispered simultaneously.

Before anyone could say another word, Joe/Tom strode across the circle and pulled the woman into his arms, lifting her off the ground as he held her close and kissed her.

* * *

_Been called in to work overtime tomorrow (on Halloween night, no less… Don't get me started). So y'all might have to wait an extra day for the next chapter. Sorry about that._


	5. Chapter 5

**Going in Circles**

_Thanks for the kind reviews. Pardon the delay in getting this posted._

Chapter Five

* * *

Maggie twisted and fought her way out of the man's embrace.

"What do you think you're doing!" she shouted. "Who are you?"

"Maggie," the man said, as if he were cut to the heart. "Maggie, please…"

"You stay away from me, you hear?" She stabbed a finger in his direction. "How do you know my name?"

"Maggie?"

She turned slightly, hearing Simon's voice, and shone the flashlight around the circle until it fell on him. She ran to kneel beside him and put her arms around him. "Simon, are you all right? What have they done to you?"

"Honey, please go back to the house," Simon begged, his eyes large and frightened. "Stay with the kids. I'll be back as quick as I can."

"Simon, what's going on?" she said worriedly.

"Please, baby. Just go back to the house," he urged.

"Dude," Dean said, horrified. "You married her?"

Simon nodded mutely, never taking his eyes from his wife.

"Who are you people?" she said, getting to her feet. "What have you done to my husband?"

"Maggie?" Joe whispered, disbelief, pain and sorrow marring his features. "You married him?"

Dean felt his hair stand on end and the air around him suddenly felt heavy.

"Joe, calm down," Sam said. "She didn't know." Dean looked to his brother. Sam had a hand held protectively against his sore ribs and Dean knew he was also feeling the effects of the ghost.

"Sam, get back. Get out of the circle," Dean ordered.

"Joe, just calm down," Sam said again, ignoring him.

Maggie rubbed at her arms and looked around as if trying to figure out what exactly was wrong.

"Maggie, tell me you didn't," Joe said, almost hopelessly.

"Didn't what?" she demanded angrily. "You're that alien hunter. My husband told you to stay off our property!"

Joe physically flinched at the word husband. "Do you remember that day, Maggie? The day we went to the lake for a picnic?"

"Are you crazy? I don't even know you," she said. She was a little short of breath, but Dean could tell she wasn't feeling the full effects of the ghost like the rest of them were.

Joe took a step toward her, but she backed away, keeping her distance. He moved forward again and she took another step back. Like a choreographed dance, the corn around them fell and flattened as she moved and he followed.

Simon stumbled to his feet and placed himself between his wife and the ghost. "Please, Joe. This has nothing to do with her. Just leave her out of this."

"She has everything to do with this," Joe replied coldly. "You took her from me."

"Simon, what's he talking about?" Maggie asked.

Joe's eyes moved past Simon to look at her. "That day by the lake… I asked you to marry me, Mags," Joe said.

"What are you talk…" the woman's voice trailed away and her mouth dropped open.

"Ok, quick recap," Dean said. "This is Joe, the guy who supposedly disappeared your senior year of High School. Only he didn't really disappear. Simon here," Dean pointed helpfully with his flashlight, "locked him in a silo so he could put the moves on you. Joe died," he moved the beam of light to Joe, "and instead of owning up to it, Simon here," back to Simon, "buried him out in the field and never told anyone. Insult to injury, putting the moves on you seems to have worked, since you two are married. Joe's ticked now and he's possessed our nice sci-fi geek friend, Tom. Note the freaky, glowy eyes."

"You're crazy," Maggie whispered, staring at Dean. "You're all crazy." She turned to her husband, "Simon, what's he talking about? What _is_ all this?"

"Please, honey. Just go back to the house," he begged yet again.

The woman almost fearfully turned her eyes back to Joe. "Who told you about that day at the lake? I never told anyone."

"Seems to be a lot of that going around," Dean muttered.

"He killed me, Maggie," Joe whispered. "He killed me and you married him."

The pressure around them suddenly rose to crushing levels. Simon dropped like a rock, falling flat on the ground. Dean spun on his heels and with all of his strength physically pushed Sam out of the circle. Not to be outdone, however, Sam caught Dean's shirt, pulling him with him and they both stumbled and fell back into the corn that was still standing.

"Dean, you know I hate that superhero, save Sam first crap," Sam hissed.

"I can't help that I have vastly superior reflexes," Dean shot back, getting to his feet. "The force is with you, young Skywalker, but you are not a Jedi yet." He grinned, knowing Sam was rolling his eyes without even having to see it.

Looking back into the circle, they could make out that Simon was face down on the ground, struggling to breathe. Maggie, however, appeared to be relatively unaffected.

She frantically knelt beside her husband. Judging from her expression, she didn't understand what was happening, but raising her head and looking at Tom/Joe, she seemed to realize the source of the problem. "What are you doing to him?" she demanded.

"It's all right, Maggie," he replied, looking down at Simon almost dispassionately. "This is justice." He stepped toward her and took her by the shoulders, raising her from her knees to stand in front of him.

Maggie looked back down at her husband, then back to the man standing in front of her, fear and confusion playing across her features. "Is it really you, Joe?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"It's me, Mags," he said, putting his arms around her, setting his forehead against hers. "I've missed you so much."

She was tense where he touched her, trying to pull away. "Joe, you have to help Simon," she said urgently.

"No, I don't," he said calmly. "All we have to do is wait a little while. He'll go quietly and then we can be together."

"Joe, please," she entreated. "He's your _friend_. You love him. _I_ love him."

"It's all right, Maggie," he said, ignoring her pleas. "We'll be together now."

Around the pair, the ground began to ripple outward in a circle, like waves in a pond away from a pebble dropped into the water. Joe locked his arms around Maggie and almost before Dean realized what was happening the couple began to sink.

"Sam, he's gonna bury her!" Dean shouted, running into the circle. The pressure was so great, it was almost like running into a brick wall. Dean fought through it, feeling rather than seeing that Sam was beside him also fighting his way through the sludge-like air.

In the few seconds it took to reach them, the couple was already buried past their waists, almost as if in quicksand. Without having to say anything, Dean grasped Maggie, wrapping his arms around her beneath hers while Sam did the same with Tom, both of them pulling with all their might to keep them from being swallowed.

Black spots began to dance in front of Dean's eyes, but he angrily ordered himself to remain conscious. If he blacked out, the woman in his arms was as good as dead. Maggie was clinging to him like a lifeline and he refused to let her go. Dean strained for all he was worth, barely keeping her arms and shoulders above ground. His lungs were screaming for oxygen and only sheer stubbornness made him hold on.

Sam, too, was struggling, but with the added problem of an uncooperative drowning victim. In his peripheral vision, Dean saw Sam reach into his pocket and pull something out. Holding onto Tom with only one arm wrapped around his torso, Sam waved the other hand over the couple frantically.

Dean was still pulling with every bit of strength he had left and, as if a vacuum seal had been broken, Maggie shot out of the ground. They fell back in a jumble, the pressure abruptly gone. She landed awkwardly on top of him, elbowing him in the stomach. Turning his head, he saw that Sam was in a similar situation with Tom. While Dean was content to let the lady remain where she was and catch her breath, Sam inelegantly pushed a newly unconscious Tom off of him and sat up.

"Next time, I get to save the girl," Sam said, still breathing hard. "You get the possessed guy."

"Yeah," Dean grinned, looking down at the woman whose head still rested against his chest. "I'm pretty sure I got the better deal on this one."

Dean grunted as Maggie sat up, elbowing him in the stomach again.

"Your charm knows no limits," Sam snorted.

Maggie crawled toward her husband. She was crying as she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him to her. He was barely conscious, but Dean could see that he breathing.

"What did you do back there? Why did he let us go?" Dean demanded, turning back to Sam.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I _told_ you I had some salt packets left over from lunch."

"You gotta be kidding me."

"It wasn't much," Sam shrugged, "But I thought it might be enough to get Joe to turn Tom loose. Guess it worked."

"Yeah, but now where is he?"

As if in answer, the ground beneath them began to tremble and Dean let out an instinctive shout. He and Sam both jumped to their feet. "Get Tom," Dean ordered, "I'll help her with Simon."

The shaking continued as Sam threw Tom over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Dean pulled one of Simon's arms around his shoulders, while Maggie did the same on the other side. "The road!" Dean urged. "We've got up to the road!"

The group moved as fast as they could, reaching the pavement in only a few seconds. Sam and Dean both dropped their burdens and ran back for the deputy, still lying just inside the field. They dragged him back to the road as well and stood there watching as every stalk of corn as far as they could see, like a wave moving across the field, fell flat to the ground. The trembling continued for several more seconds, until at last, very close to the edge of the field, they saw a fissure open. The rumbling stopped with one last cough as a man's long-dead remains, still in tattered jeans and t-shirt, popped to the surface.

"The three rules of real estate," Dean sighed. "Location, location, location."

* * *

_Almost there. Last chapter tomorrow._


	6. Chapter 6

**Going in Circles**

_And now… the end is near… Thank you to everyone who's stuck with it._

Chapter Six

* * *

Dean stood leaning against the hood of the car, well out of the way of the fire engines and tanker trucks. Sam sat on the hood beside him, his feet resting on the bumper. It looked to be several volunteer fire departments all trying to put out the field fire. Apparently burning one _little_ set of bones was enough to set several acres of dry corn ablaze. Joe's bones were now just another bit of ash in the huge fire.

With a bit of subtle and not so subtle prodding, the deputy had decided that he'd fallen during the oddly localized earthquake and hit his head. Any other explanation would only require another round of questions and answers, most of which would get them committed.

Simon and his wife were back at their house, no doubt hugging the kids and convincing themselves that none of it had ever happened. There was no such thing as ghosts. They'd been caught in a field fire and the smoke had gotten to them. Dean had no doubt though that there would be questions and fighting later when the memories didn't fade quite fast enough.

He sighed. At least they were upwind. It always took forever to get the smell of smoke out of his clothes. Hazard of the job. As often as they ended up burning corpses, they probably smelled like two pack a day smokers and just couldn't tell it anymore.

That smell… the smoldering field, it smelled like autumn. It made him think of raking leaves into huge piles to be burned, little kids running around in costumes, watching the World Series; things nice normal people did in the fall. Things he'd never actually done himself, apart from watch the World Series, but they were images permanently imprinted in his brain of normal life. He didn't necessarily want those things. It was more like a beautiful painting of a far off life that he could appreciate if never have.

"You ok, man?" Sam asked. "You look a hundred miles away."

"Yeah," Dean nodded, clearing his throat. "Just thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"Baseball," Dean grinned. "What do you think of the Cubs' chances next year? Gotta root for the underdog."

Sam snorted. "Fine. Don't tell me."

"What? You don't like muscle cars. You don't like decent music. Now you don't like baseball?" Dean shook his head. "You sure you're American?"

Sam glared at him. "I'm still holding out hope I was adopted."

Dean grinned. "Sorry, Sammy. Can't get rid of me that easy."

"You ready to get out of here?"

"Sure."

"Hey, guys! Wait!" They both turned to see Tom jogging toward them.

Sam stood up from where he was still sitting on the hood of the car and shoved his hands in his pockets. It always amazed Dean, seeing his brother's shy childhood habits still in action. "How are you feeling?" Sam asked politely.

"Fine, fine," Tom said, waving the concern away. He seemed to be so excited he was practically jumping out of his skin. "I need to know if you two would be willing to write out statements."

"I beg your pardon?" Dean asked, hardly believing his ears.

Tom eyes widened. "You were eyewitnesses to an attempted abduction! It has to be documented!"

Sam and Dean briefly shared a glance. Dean couldn't hide his smile, while Sam actually looked embarrassed for the guy.

"Tom… we…" Sam seemed to be at a loss for words. "I'm not sure what you think happened tonight."

"But…" the man looked crestfallen. "In the crop circle… The readings were off the scale! And you felt it! I know you did!"

"Tom, there was a field fire," Sam said, his tone placating as he put a hand on his shoulder. "I think we all just got a little too much smoke."

"No!" Tom jerked away from him. "I know you felt it, whatever that force was!"

"Dude, you're from Star Trek. You're not supposed to know about the Force," Dean muttered.

"Don't make fun of this!" Tom ordered angrily. "You," he stabbed a finger at Dean. "I passed out in the circle and you pulled me out. I saw you when I woke up… and then everything got hazy. But I remember you pointing a gun at me."

Dean shifted uncomfortably. He'd really been hoping the man wouldn't remember anything from his time while the ghost was in residence.

"What do you think this is? The Wild West?" Dean asked, doing his best version of 'innocent bystander.' "Why would I be pointing a gun at you? You're just lucky they didn't arrest you for being in that field again," he added. "Are you sure you're ok? Maybe you got a little more smoke than the rest of us."

"There was a woman," Tom frowned in concentration. "I think… I think I kissed her."

Dean's mouth quirked up on one side. "Well, that must have been a new experience."

Tom paid no attention, looking out toward the field in confusion. "The ground… it… it was like a wave… I… we were sinking… And I think I made it happen."

"The earthquake," Sam offered.

Tom shook his head vehemently. "No! I know what I saw! I… I think I was a vessel!"

Dean barely managed to contain a laugh. "You were a _what_?"

"A vessel!" the man said, latching onto the idea with relish. "They were trying to communicate!"

"Who?" Dean asked reluctantly.

"The aliens!"

Dean was already shaking his head. "Nobody was trying to talk to you. I'm not sure _I_ want to talk to you." And that was certainly true. Sadly, other than the alien bit, the poor guy wasn't too far off the mark. Just like it always seemed to happen in the little circus they called their lives, they'd all been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"But what did I _say_?" Tom practically begged. "I was awake. I was talking! I've already been to see Mr. Winters and he wouldn't tell me _anything_!"

"Tom," Sam said, "I think you need to calm down. You passed out. And yeah, when you came to, you were talking. But you weren't making a whole lot of sense."

"What I said… Maybe it wasn't English… or maybe it was in code!" the man answered gleefully. "Just tell me what you can remember. I'll take it to a guy I know."

"Dude, how many times _did_ you get pantsed in high school?" Dean asked in disbelief.

Sam glared at him before turning back to the man facing them. "Tom," Sam said gently, "there's really nothing more we can tell you. The whole field is gone now and so are your crop circles. I think you're going to need to move on."

"Move on?" Tom blinked as if just waking up. "Move on? You've been trying to stop me all along, haven't you? You were following me yesterday. You followed me into the crop circle. You followed me after I got out of jail." He raised a hand as if warding them off and backed up a few steps. "It was you," he said in horrified awe. "You two… you burned the field."

"Now hold on there," Dean said, but Tom cut him off.

"You did this? Just to stop me from finding out?"

Dean looked at Sam and just shrugged.

"Who are you?" Tom demanded. "Government? CIA? FBI?" His eyes suddenly widened and he took several more steps back. "You're Men in Black!"

"I'm much better looking than Will Smith," Dean said indignantly. "And Sammy here… well… all right, he could be Tommy Lee Jones. Bossy, minimal sense of humor… He's already getting wrinkled in his old age."

"Hilarious, Dean," Sam sighed. "But you're not helping the situation."

"What would help this?" Dean shot back. "Although, I wish I had one of those memory zapper thingies…" He waved a hand in Tom's direction. "It would take care of this."

"You stay away from me!" Tom bellowed. "Everyone is going to know what happened here tonight! The world will know! You can't stop the truth!" The man turned on his heel and sprinted away.

Dean snorted. "That's what he thinks. Most people wouldn't know the truth if they sat on it."

"He's not a bad guy. Just a little… misguided," Sam said, watching the man's retreating figure. "Do you have to taunt everyone we come across?"

"Of course, I do," Dean grinned. "Mocking the clueless… It's one of the few perks of this job."

"Fine," Sam sighed. "Let's go. Before he finds his other UFO friends and they show up to interview us."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You sure you don't want to stick around and make sure they're using the scientific method? Check their research?"

"Get in the car," Sam ordered testily.

"First we're avenging angels and now we're the Man keeping the little guy down," Dean sighed. "We just can't win tonight."

"Saved three people," Sam said, casting him a sidelong glance.

"Whatever." Dean shrugged and threw the keys to him. "You drive. I could use a nap."

Sam threw the keys right back at him and got in on the passenger side. "What are you 80?"

"Hey… I dragged your sorry butt out of that crop circle. I can put it right back there," Dean pointed to the smoldering field.

"I sleep… what? Two nights a week all the way through and now you want special treatment?"

"Snot-nosed, ungrateful brat," Dean said, pulling open the car door and sliding into the driver's seat, though he nearly smiled. "Thought I raised you better than that." Only after it was out did Dean realize what he'd said and fought not to blush in embarrassment. He'd thought he was incapable of blushing anymore.

Beside him, Sam sat very still for only a second. "You did." Then he coughed, equally embarrassed and grinned. "The problem is that I also grew up with you. And you were a bad influence, man."

Dean was thankful for Sam's willingness to let the remark go without delving into it. "Just don't blame your hair on me," he said. "I tried to take you to the barber."

Sam snorted. "You threatened to shoot me if I didn't go. That one time you even went armed. You were like the opposite of a bodyguard."

Dean laughed at the memory as he started the car. Sam might smile now, but at the time he'd been furious. His brother had snitched thirty seconds after they got home and Dean had been in for it. Dad had given him just one of many in a long line of 'you have to be the responsible one' lectures.

Sadly Dean thought he had been. He'd heard a teacher remark how scruffy Sam looked. Dean's twelve year old brain had translated the solution into getting Sam a new shirt and cutting his hair or have social services called yet again to make sure they were being taken care of. It had worked and for once in his life the kid hadn't looked like something the cat dragged in. And it had only cost Dean an afternoon of the silent treatment from his brother and a lecture. Not a bad day's work.

"So where to now?" Dean asked.

"We were going to Illinois, weren't we?" Sam said.

Dean sighed. Oh yeah. The maybe it's a ghost, but probably it's nothing case. "Right. Illinois."

"I'm sorry. Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?" Sam laughed.

"Maybe we should've kept Tom with us," Dean raised an eyebrow. "He could've taught me the Vulcan Death Grip."

"I'm not letting you stay up late anymore," Sam said. "The Sci-Fi Channel is not good for you."

Dean just grinned. "Beam me up, Scottie."

* * *

_And there you have it. Hope it kept you amused._


End file.
